Do I Wanna Know?
by tinnatothemoon
Summary: First year sure is hard, especially if you're best friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Who am I? Emma Wright, first year Gryffindor. May the chaos ensue.
1. Onion Soup

**A/N**: Hello! I had posted this before, but decided to rewrite it in first person. It will follow Emma and her years at Hogwarts. This chapter will be in her mom's point of view, and after it will be in Emma's. Please, any constructive criticism would be very much appreciated and please review!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter world as it belongs to the fabulous J. K. Rowling.  
I own anything you don't recognize.

* * *

"I can't believe he's taking her to Hogsmeade! Clara Barnes, of all people!"

Sitting in the secluded corner of the library, I rolled my eyes. _Hufflepuffs! I'm trying to study here . . . Now where was I? Right, the Draught of Living Death sends the drinker to a deathlike slumber- _

"Wait, Richard Wright? I thought he was dating that girl he's always with—the redheaded one? Medium height? What's her name? Eleanor? Elena? Emily?"

"No, I think it's—"

The conversation had been cut short, however, by the screeching sound my chair had made as I pushed it back against the stone floors. I stuffed my papers into my bag and left the library in a rush. Rushing down the corridor I heard a faint voice as the library doors closed.

"That's her, that's Elizabeth Green!"

_Where can he be? He's not in the common room or the Great Hall . . . That's it! The Quidditch pitch!_

Once I walked through the oak doors leading to the grounds, I made my way to the pitch, where the Ravenclaw team was practicing for their upcoming game against Slytherin. Their captain, Richard Wright, blew a whistle and yelled out drills.

"RICHARD WRIGHT, HOW DARE YOU! TAKING THAT FOUL, DIMWITTED GIRL TO HOGSMEADE!"

Surprised by my voice, Richard barely had time to register the quaffle thrown in his direction.

"Wha- what are you- talking about?" Winded, he flew and landed on the grass beside me.

"Oh, don't pull that on me! _What are you talking about_," I mimicked. "Clara Barnes? She doesn't even like you! I heard from Susan who heard from Michelle from Gryffindor who heard from Helen in the lavatory that she's only interested in you because you're good looking and Quidditch captain! I thought you would at least have some sense inside that thick head of yours! And did you know where I heard this from, hm? In the library! What, too ashamed to tell your best friend—"

"I'm not going out with her."

"I thought we told each other . . . you're not?"

"Of course not! I do have standards, you know!"

"Then why would those Hufflepuffs think you're going out with her?"

"I don't . . . Oh. Michael really likes her and he's been trying to convince her to with him to Hogsmeade for months. I was helping my best mate out."

" . . . So you don't like her?"

"Of course not!"

Avoiding eye contact, I finally noticed that the Ravenclaw team had stopped practicing to watch. Feeling foolish for causing such a scene about a rumor, I turned red. Playing with the sleeves of my robes, I started to turn towards the castle.

"Well . . . I should go. You know how I get when I have too much onion soup . . ." Nervously laughing, I held my hands against my stomach for emphasis.

_Did I just say that? Where's a black hole when you need one . . . _

I rushed out of the pitch and towards the castle. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! Am I not in Ravenclaw? Disgrace! One stupid rumor and I'm suddenly possessive?! What is wrong with me? Oh, how embarrassing! The whole team heard me! Merlin . . . people will hear about this before dinner starts—_

"Elizabeth! Liz! Wait!"

_Bloody hell, it's him. Quick, Elizabeth! I can see it! The Entrance Hall is just right there, just a little longer . . . is he catching up? Oh, no. I better pick up my speed. He's probably here to embarrass me some more. _

I started to run toward the castle, but before I could get there, a group of first years emerged from the oak doors and I stumbled into the group. A first year girl beside me glared as she picked herself up.

"Excuse you!"

_Sheesh, so rude it's not like I grabbed onto her pigtails that hard when I fell . . . _

"Liz!" reaching down, Richard easily picked me up.

"How are you not out of breath?" I panted.

_Maybe that extra cheese roll wasn't a good idea after all . . . _

"I've been on the team since second year. Don't change the subject. Why were you running away from me? I've been calling you since Hagrid's hut."

"Oh, just . . . you know. Like I said, upset stomach. Fingers crossed I don't sneeze!" _Fingers crossed . . . Did I just . . . _

"Liz, I think we need to talk about this."

"Talk . . . about what? Dinner? I hope they have chicken tonight, Merlin knows I'll throw a fit if they have lamb again. Did you notice we've had lamb two days in a row—"

But before I could finish, Richard had pulled me against him and kissed me.

* * *

Looking over at my new husband, I couldn't help but smile. The war had started during our later years at Hogwarts, but many of our friends and family were able to attend. Sure, this happiness wouldn't last, but I was going to enjoy it while I can. After this, death will continue and so will reality.

"What are you thinking about, Liz?"

Smiling over at him, I knew I wasn't making a mistake marrying him at 18 years of age. Everything about Richard made me smile. From his brown hair to the scar on his abdomen he had acquired from a Quidditch accident, all the way to the birthmark on his left foot. I knew I wanted to have a family with him and grow old together.

"Oh, I'm just hoping none of our kids have that hideous brown hair of yours."

"My hideous hair?" roaring with laughter, Richard tugged on my hair. "Merlin forbid they have your red hair."

I wrinkled my nose, "I'll have you know, us redheads are nearing extinction! I would be ecstatic to pass it on—"

A flash interrupted us as Michael, Richard's best friend, took a picture of us bickering. Richard could be seen laughing and tugging my hair, while I had narrowed my eyes. It was my favorite from the wedding.

* * *

Looking down at our daughter sleeping in her crib, I couldn't help but worry. Richard was out doing Order business and something didn't feel right. James and Lily Potter had been hiding for the past year with their son, Harry. Death Eaters recently tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom for information. Gideon and Fabian Prewett were killed during a mission. Just how much longer will this last? How can we raise our daughter in this environment? Especially with another baby on the way . . .

A loud crack sounded through the empty house. Fearing the worst, I grabbed my wand and crept towards the stairs. The sound of Richard's voice brought some relief.

"LIZ! He's gone! Voldemort's gone!" grabbing me, he kissed me passionately. "I can't believe it, he's gone! James and Lily—they're gone. He killed them before trying to kill Harry. But when tried to, something happened! But he's dead, Liza! The war is over!"

"No!" I gasped, "What about Harry? Is he dead too?"

"He survived! He survived the killing curse, can you believe it!"

Rushing up the stairs to our daughter's room, Richard picked her up. Emma awoke at once.

"Richard! I finally got her to sleep!" My words fell to death ears however, as Richard began to sway her back and forth.

"Em, the bad person is gone! You don't have to worry anymore! We don't have to worry anymore . . . " and began to sing a song to her.

"Yeah, we don't have to worry anymore," I whispered, smiling as I watched my daughter laugh with her father. _My family is safe. _


	2. Not-Barry and Not-Don

**A/N**: Hey, guys! Thanks for reading my story! Please review!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter world as it belongs to the fabulous J. K. Rowling.  
I own anything you don't recognize.

* * *

"Emma! Don't walk too fast! We're still half an hour early!"

"But it's Hogwarts, mum!"

"Oh, Liz, let the girl go. Don't you remember how exciting it was for your first year?" asked Dad.

"Mum, are you going to be a downer when I start Hogwarts too?" asked my younger brother.

Christopher glanced up at mum innocently, enjoying her annoyance. Mum gave dad a scathing look that all of us had grown accustomed to.

"Ahem—I mean, Emma! You listen to your mother! Stick with us! And Christopher, don't sass your mother."

Rolling my eyes I slowed down to my family's pace.

_It's my first year for crying out loud! How am I supposed to keep my excitement in? One thing for sure, I'm not going to miss mum's nagging—Oh, Merlin . . . _

We stopped between platforms nine and ten. Just ahead was the entrance to the platform of the Hogwarts Express. Dad grabbed me by the shoulders and placed me in front of the barrier. Behind us, mum fussed with the syrup stain on Christopher's shirt.

"Emma, see that barrier? Just walk right into it."

"Very funny, dad. If you're trying to get back at me for putting salt in your coffee this morning, it's not very clever." I said, narrowing my eyes.

Dad knelt down to my level and smiled, "Sweetheart, if I wanted to get back at you, I would've had a better plan than this. It's your big day! I wouldn't _dare_ to do such a thing!"

Reassured, I nodded my head. Grabbing the handles of my cart, I started to run into the platform—before I made impact with the wall and fell over. My trunk toppled over, and my poor owl made a ruckus as it fell sideways and rolled over to dad.

Howling with laughter, he picked up my trunk and owl before helping me up. Placing the back of his hand onto his forehead, he feigned surprise.

"Oh, Emma! I must've forgot which barrier it was, been so long you know."

Mum rushed over to check on me, and then narrowed her eyes at dad. She said, "Richard, what kind of joke is this? Look! All the muggles are looking at us!"

"Sorry, Liz. I'm just trying to pull some fun!"

"Yes, dad, very funny," I muttered, brushing my clothes clean.

"Well, I thought it was funny," piped Christopher.

"_Nobody_ asked you, now did they?" I swatted at his head.

A voice said, "Excuse me, are you going to be standing there all day? We have to get onto the platform."

We finally noticed the family of redheads behind us.

"Oh, hello, Molly! Long time no see," mum said as they hugged. "Are these your boys? They've grown so much since the last time we've seen each other. Ah, I do recall little Charlie and his stuffed dragon toy."

"Stuffed!" started one of the redheaded boys; "Dragon!" cried his twin; and then, in unison, "Toy!" The redheaded twins crackled with laughter.

"Hush, boys," scolded Molly, their mother. Turning to mum and dad she said, "Hello, Elizabeth. Richard. Is this your little Emma? Perfect, the same age as my Ron here."

Molly pushed forward her youngest son, who was blushing. I smiled and greeted him.

"Hello! I'm Emma," I said. After a moment, I turned away, blushing. "You didn't happen to see me crash into the wall, did you?"

Ron took an awfully long time before he shook his head, and said no.

Satisfied I said, "Oh, good! That would've been a way to start your first year, everyone knowing you crashed into the wrong wall to the platform before they even knew your name."

"_Mum_," cried the tallest boy. "We're going to be late."

Mum and dad were talking to Molly, while the youngest children, Christopher and the only girl in the redheaded family, played a game of guessing who the muggles were in the packed train station.

"All right, Percy, you first," said Molly. "Fred, you next."

Percy marched towards platforms nine and ten, and I watched intently.

_Would he crash into the wall as I had earlier? _

As he reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large group of tourists swarmed in front of me, obscuring my sight, so by the time the area cleared, Percy had vanished.

_So dad wasn't completely wrong . . . _

"Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went.

His twin brother walked briskly toward the barrier and then, suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

Glancing to my left, I noticed a boy walking towards us. He had messy black hair and glasses, and had with him a trunk and an owl. I smiled at him.

"Hello, I'm Emma. Amazing, isn't it? First year?"

"I'm Harry. And, yes, this is my first year, too."

Turning to the group of adults, Harry said, "Excuse me."

"Hello, dear," Molly said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed to her remaining son.

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is—the thing is, I don't know how to—"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded.

"Not to worry. All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

Harry made his way through the magical wall, followed shortly by Ron.

Turning back to the barrier, I tuned out the sound of the parent's talking. This was it. Tightening my grip on the cart, I ran toward the seemingly solid wall, half-expecting the impact I had felt previously. But it never happened.

* * *

My eyes widened, and I tried to take in everything around me—from the scarlet steam engine and the wrought-iron archway to the witches and wizards of all ages.

"Emma!" said mum, and I turned and walked over to my family.

"Ready to board the train? It's almost time to go. Have a good year and please don't cause any trouble. If I receive a letter from your professors—or even Dumbledore himself!—you're in big trouble."

"_Mum_! Can't I have fun?"

"Behave, Emma Wright."

With short goodbyes, I took my trunk and climbed aboard the train. Once inside, I looked out the nearest window. Dad had wrapped his arm around mum, who was crying, and was holding onto Christopher's collar. Waving my last goodbyes, I went to search for an empty compartment.

Looking through every compartment window, I stopped once I recognized the youngest redhead and the black-haired boy from the platform.

_What were their names again? _

I slid the compartment door open, just enough for my head to pop in.

"Hey Barry! Don! Mind if I sit with you guys?"

Looking at each other, the boys stifled their laughter.

"That's not our names . . ." said Harry.

_You've done it now, Emma. Can't even remember two names. Way to embarrass yourself with two classmates, and we're not even at Hogwarts yet! _

"I knew that . . . I just thought you were two other guys . . ." Nervously laughing, I quickly apologized and pulled my head out of the compartment. Before I could close the door, however, a voice called me back.

"Emma, is it?" Not-Barry called out. "You can sit with us, if you like."

Pushing my messy strawberry blonde hair back, I glanced up at the two boys. Unsure, I bit my lip.

"Are you sure? I mean, I saw another first year sitting with his two friends. He looked like he smelled dungbombs and his friends _did _look like gorillas, but I'm sure they're very nice—"

Not-Don smiled, and said, "We're sure."

After I placed my trunk and owl in the proper places, I sat down next to the redhead. Giving them a toothy grin, I re-introduced myself.

"I'm Emma Wright—"

"I think so. That's what your parents called you."

"No, I wasn't asking; my last name is Wright."

"Oh," said the redhead. "I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

The black-haired boy said, "Harry Potter."

"Are you really? Wicked! Mind if I tell my younger brother about you? He won't believe that I met you. He doesn't think I'm very cool," I said, and turned towards his owl. "Wow, what a beautiful owl! What's her name?"

_And that, my friends, is how a friendship started. _

* * *

It was nearing late afternoon and the train had yet to arrive at Hogwarts. As darkness enveloped the landscape around them, the students were becoming restless.

"Are you _sure _that's a real spell," mocked Ron, glaring angrily between his wand and his rat, Scabbers. Moments ago, a first year named Hermione had made her way through the train, helping a boy look for his lost toad, and stopped by the compartment. I missed the interaction, however, as I had to use the loo and change into my robes. The two boys, especially Ron, didn't seem too keen on her.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it that way, Ron," I said. "She's probably nervous like we are." Ron still didn't seem pleased.

"Forget about her. Whatever house she's in—I hope I'm not in it," said Ron. Disgruntled, he threw his wand back into his trunk. "George must've thought it would be funny to give me a fake spell."

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked.

"Gryffindor. Mum and Dad were in it too . . ." Ron said, before hesitating. "I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad, and Hufflepuff I'd suppose, but what if I'm in Slytherin?"

"The house Vol—I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" asked Harry. Ron and I nodded.

"I think the ends of Scabbers's whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry, who gave me a look.

"No it—I mean, I agree, Harry! Some shine on his fur too," I said encouragingly. "So, Ron, what are your older brothers doing now?"

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "By the way, did you two hear about the break in at Gringotts? The Daily Prophet reported it." He glanced at Harry, who seemed confused. "But I don't suppose you'd get the Prophet," he said. "Someone tried to rob a high security vault."

I lost the grip on my chocolate frog as Harry and I stared at him.

"Really? What happened to them?" I asked.

"They haven't caught the guy yet! That's why everybody's talking about it! Dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they didn't take anything, which was odd. Everyone gets scared, though, in case You-Know-Who's behind it.

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked suddenly.

"Holyhead Harpies—Patricia Woodsworth is amazing!" I said immediately. Though I didn't play Quidditch, I loved the sport and the all-female team. Mum doesn't like it, however, something about being too violent for a young girl like me. Dad would take Christopher and I to matches and the three of us would listen to the matches through the wireless radio after dinner. Dad had tried to raise us as Puddlemore United fans, but much to his annoyance, I was an avid Holyhead Harpies fan.

"My sister Ginny loves them. Posters all over her room, though I don't see much appeal in them," said Ron, scrunching his face.

"Who do you like then?" I sneered.

"The Chudley Cannons—they can do it this year, I know it!" Ron defended them as I let out an unattractive snort. "Harry, what's your favorite team?"

Hesitating, Harry said, "I don't know any—it's a sport, right?"

We gaped at him in shock before explaining the sport of Quidditch to him.

"So there's four balls—" "—and seven players—" we started before jumping into the wizarding sport. Just as we were getting to the finer points of the game, the compartment door slid open. I had expected it to be this "Hermione" girl, but three boys had entered instead.

Recognizing the blonde boy and his two friends I had seen through the window while searching for a compartment, I greeted them, "Hello—"

"So it's true?" the blonde, pale boy interrupted. "Rumor has it that Harry Potter's in this compartment. It's you, is it?"

_Rude little git, isn't he? _

"Yes," Harry said. He looked at Ron and I warily.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," said the boy. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

I hid my amusement behind my hand as Ron gave a slight cough.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all about the Weasleys; red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Ron turned red and mumbled incoherently before shrinking into his seat. Not too surprised by the rude exchange, I glared at the blonde boy.

"Who are you?" he asked, looking curiously at me, "Another Weasley?"

"As a matter of fact, no—but even if was, we would still be a hundred times better than you'll ever be."

Scoffing, he turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You wouldn't want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Malfoy held out his hand, but Harry didn't shake it.

"I think I'll be fine on my own, thanks," he said.

A pink tinge appeared on Malfoy's pale cheeks. "Careful, Potter," he said. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. Hang around with people like the Weasleys and that oaf Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

The three of us stood up instantly.

"Say that again," Ron threatened, his face as red as his own hair.

"Going to fight us, are you." Malfoy sneered.

"Not unless you get out right now," said Harry.

Sure, I would defend my new friends in a heartbeat . . . but are they aware of Crabbe and Goyle's body size?

"Well, we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We ate all our candy and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached for the Chocolate Frogs near Ron, who leapt forward to grab them, but before he made contact, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

I could barely make out the shape of Scabbers as Goyle swung his hand around. Scabbers's sharp little teeth had sunken deep into his finger. Malfoy and Crabbe backed away, without any intent of helping their friend. Once Scabbers flew off and hit the window, the three goons disappeared. Not a second later, a girl came in.

"What's going on in here?" she asked, taking notice of the sweets on the floor and Ron grabbing Scabbers by the tail.

"I think he's knocked out," Ron said, ignoring her.

Peering closer to the rat, I exclaimed, "I don't believe it! He's gone back to sleep." Tilting my head, I asked, "Harry, you've met Malfoy before?"

Harry nodded and briefed us on their meeting at Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron. I nodded beside him. "They were one of the few to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Claimed they were bewitched—my dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark side."

I observed the girl at the compartment door; she had bushy brown hair, rather large front teeth, and like I was, wore her robes. "Can we help you?"

"Hermione Granger," she said to me. "Better hurry up and put your robes on, boys. I was up front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You three haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"It was Scabbers fighting, not us," said Ron. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right . . . you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her as she left, rubbing his nose. Outside the window, the sun had reached the top of the mountains and the sky had turned into a beautiful shade of deep purple.

I waited outside as the boys changed. Standing a few steps away from the door, I smiled at people passing by. I also bought several Chocolate Frogs from the trolley lady as she made her final round through the train.

_Harry and Ron are awfully nice . . . I hope we're all in the same House . . . Bloody hell, what if I'm in Slytherin? Especially if that Malfoy will be there . . . What if mum and dad disown me because I'm a Slytherin? And Christopher will be the favorite child and—_

"Excuse me," a voice said behind me.

Turning to the unfamiliar voice, I took a gander at the boy in front of me. He was tall, dark-haired, and had gray eyes.

_Is this what mum was talking about when she mentioned boys at Hogwarts? He's gorgeous! Oh, wait, I'm staring too long . . . Quick, say something! _

"H-hi," I stuttered, blushing.

_Smooth. _

He smiled warmly and asked, "Have you seen the trolley lady? I wanted to grab a Chocolate Frog before we arrive at Hogwarts."

"I'm sorry—you just missed her. She made her final round just moments ago . . ."

Disappointment shone in the boy's face before I spoke up again. "I bought some before she left. I mean, you probably wouldn't want one from a complete stranger—I promise I didn't poison any, though I'll probably use that against some Slytherins . . . that is if I'm not in Slytherin—which I really hope I'm not and—"

"That would be lovely, thank you," he said, interrupting her rambling.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Chocolate Frog. Taking the frog, the boy started to turn back to the direction he came from.

"Good luck with the sorting—sorry, didn't catch your name."

"It's Emma."

"Cedric. Good luck; hopefully you'll be in Hufflepuff," smiling once more, he turned and disappeared down the corridor.

_And suddenly, Hufflepuff doesn't seem so bad . . . Cedric . . . _

"Emma . . . Emma!" Staring off into the direction Cedric disappeared into, I didn't notice the older Slytherin student who was picking his nose come into view.

"OW!" Jumping away from him, I grabbed my red skin. "What was that for?"

"You were swooning over the nose picker there," Ron shrugged and nodded his head towards the Slytherin. "I didn't know what else to do."

"No, I wasn't! I . . . was just daydreaming! Are you two done yet? I swear you guys take longer than us girls!" Flipping my hair I turned and walked back to the compartment.

* * *

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken down to the school separately. Thank you," the conductor's voice echoed through the train.

"Finally! I thought we would never make it. I'm starving; I wonder what food they'll have tonight. My dad says the lamb here is good, but my mom disagreed. What do you guys think?" I said, as I grabbed the leftover sweets and stuffed them into my robes.

The train slowed and came to a stop. The students pushed their way through the door and onto a tiny, dark platform. Shivering from the cold air, the three of us huddled together. A seemingly floating lamp bobbed over our heads, until a booming voice was heard. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"


	3. Toad Boy

**A/N: **Hello! Here is chapter 3 of my story. Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! And thanks to those who reviewed/read!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter world as it belongs to the fabulous J. K. Rowling.  
I own anything you don't recognize.

*I would also like to add that I thought of _The Quidditch Post_ and I apologize if anyone had thought of it or have used it before.

* * *

"Hi, Hagrid!" greeted Harry.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Ron, openly gaping at Hagrid. I slapped his arm.

"That's rude, Ron!" I scolded him, but he only shrugged.

Hagrid, half-giant, stood over us. "Follow me—any more firs' years? Mind yer step! Firs' years, follow me!"

Struggling to keep up with his big footsteps, we followed him down a steep, narrow path. It was quiet as nobody spoke, although a boy sniffed a few times.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulders.

Gasps and sounds of amazement were heard as we took sight of Hogwarts. We arrived onto the edge of a black lake, and the castle can be seen perched on top of a high mountain on the other side of the lake. Its windows sparkled in the dark, starry sky. I couldn't help but look up in wonder.

"Wicked!" said Ron and we nodded in agreement.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called as he pointed to the arrangement of boats sitting by the shore. Hermione accompanied Harry, Ron, and I to our boat. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who sat in his own boat. "FORWARD!"

The fleets of boats moved together, drifting across the lake. We remained silent, as we got closer to the castle, which towered over us as the boats sailed closer and closer to the cliff.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled as the first few boats reached the cliff. Bending our heads down, we avoided the curtain of ivy that opened to the cliff. I snorted and Harry chuckled as Ron was hit in the face with ivy. Coming along a dark tunnel, we reached an underground harbor, where we climbed out onto the rocks and pebbles.

We climbed up a passageway after Hagrid's floating lamp. We walked up the stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak door. Hagrid raised his giant fist and knocked on the castle door.

* * *

The door swung open and revealed a tall witch in emerald green robes. Her face was stern and gave the presence of someone you shouldn't cross.

"Evenin' Professor McGonagall," greeted Hagrid. "Here are the firs' years."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I can take it from here."

The doors were pulled wider and the entrance hall was visible. It was big with stonewalls, which held the flaming torches, and high ceilings. An impressive looking marble staircase stood in front of us, which led to the upper floors.

Professor McGonagall led us outside the doorway, where the voices of the hundreds of students could be heard. Instead of opening the door, however, she stopped in front of the door. Due to the excitement of being inside the castle, I wasn't aware that I had separated from Harry and Ron. I caught a glimpse at them at my far right. Suddenly, a hand shoved me and I was pushed into Hermione's bushy hair. After I removed the mouthful of hair, I glared at Malfoy behind me, who merely smirked.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "Now, in a few moments you will walk through these doors and join your classmates, but before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses.

The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you're here, your house will be like your family. Each house has its own noble history and has produced an outstanding number of witches and wizards. Your triumphs will earn house points, and any rule breaking will lose house points. The house with the most points at the end of the year will be awarded the house cup—a great honor."

"Trevor!" yelled the sniffling boy, who suddenly launched himself at McGonagall's feet where a toad was perched. He apologized to McGonagall as he hurried back to his place in the crowd.

"The ceremony will begin shortly in front of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you're waiting," her eyes fastened themselves at the toad owner's cloak, which was attached under his left ear, and the dirt smudge on Ron's nose. I glanced at Harry who had tried to flatten his messy black hair.

"I will return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." Professor McGonagall said before entering the door and closing it behind her.

"How exactly do they sort us?" Harry asked Ron once I pushed my way to them.

"Some sort of test . . . Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking – like George was about the stupid spell."

"Don't worry, guys! My dad told me what'd happen. It's nothing bad, promise," I said, placing my hand on Harry's shoulder reassuringly.

Several people behind us suddenly screamed.

"What the—"

The three of us turned and gasped in shock. Ghosts had gone through the back wall and appeared into the room, talking to one another without a glance at us. A ghost finally took notice of us.

"New students!" said the ghost, smiling at them. "About to be sorted?"

Only a few students nodded.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" he said, "My old house, you know . . . "

I felt my neck growing hot as I remembered the boy I met on the train. _That's Cedric's house . . . _

"Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to start," said Professor McGonagall who had reentered the hall. "Form a line and follow me."

I got into line in front of Harry, with Ron behind them, and we walked into the Great Hall.

Thousands of candles lit the hall as they floated midair over the four long tables, where the other students were sitting. Golden plays and goblets were laid upon the tables. At the very front of the hall laid another long table where the tables sat. Professor McGonagall led us to the front of the table and came to a halt in front of the other students, with our backs to the teachers. The faces of the hundreds of students stared up at us.

I giggled as I noticed Harry was avoiding eye contact with the older students, while Ron was growing paler and paler. Following the eyes of the other first years, I finally took notice of the best feature in the Great Hall. It was a black ceiling that was dotted with stars, and it seemed so real that it was hard to believe that there was even a ceiling present at all.

"It's not real, the ceiling. It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_," Hermione said to us.

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool at the front of the group. A pointed wizard's hat sat upon the stool. I couldn't help but grimace at the patched, frayed, and extremely dirty hat.

_That's the Sorting Hat? You would think they would try to preserve it . . ._

It was completely silent before the hat twitched, and the rip at the brim opened wide like a mouth and began to sing a song. The hall burst into applause as the hat finished it's song and bowed to each of the four tables before becoming still again.

"We've just got to put on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry and I. "I'm going to kill Fred! He said we would have to wrestle a troll! Or perhaps the giant squid in the lake!"

I snickered behind my hand as Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you'll be putting on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said before calling out the first name.

"Abbott, Hannah!" a girl with blonde pigtails pushed her way through, stumbling in the process, and put on the hat. It fell over her eyes as she sat down and it was silent for a moment before—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

Hannah sat down on the table on the right, whose inhabitants were cheering at the Sorting Hat's decision.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat once again and Susan rushed off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The students with blue colored ties clapped joyfully as Terry joined their table, second from the left.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" also joined Ravenclaw, as "Brown, Lavender" became the first to be sorted into Gryffindor, who exploded with cheers. The redheaded twins'—whom I assumed were Ron's brothers—catcalls were heard over the loud cheers.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" was sorted into Slytherin, as "Finch-Fletchley, Justin" went to Hufflepuff.

"Finnnigan Seamus" took longer than usual as Ron held his grumbling stomach.

"I'm starving! Why is the hat taking so long with him? It's been what—ten minutes?" He whispered to Harry and I.

"Less than a minute and you're already complaining, honestly Ron," I rolled my eyes.

_Boys. _

The sandy-haired boy was sorted into Gryffindor and Hermione was called up next.

"Oh, no. Okay, relax," she said to herself. Hermione pushed her way through the crowd and eagerly jammed the hat on.

"Mental that one, I'm telling you," Ron muttered.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted and Ron groaned.

"Just my luck!"

The toad boy—Neville Longbottom, by the way—was called up and fell over on his way to the front. The hat took longer than usual before it decided on Gryffindor. Neville had ran off, still wearing the hat, before realizing his mistake and jogged back to give it to McGonagall.

Malfoy's name was called, and he smirked at us as he passed. The hat barely touched the top of his head before it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Figures—he isn't exactly the most friendliest person," I said, narrowing my eyes at the boy who sauntered over to the Slytherin table.

Not many first years were left as "Moon", "Nott", "Parkinson"—a pug faced girl who had shoved me out of the way, twin girls "Patil" and "Patil", and "Perks, Salley-Anne" were sorted, and then "Potter, Harry" was called.

Whispers consumed the hall as Harry walked up to the front. "Potter!" "Did she say Potter?" "Can it be?" "Bloody hell!"

Harry sat on the stool for a few moments and the hat had yet to decide.

"Taking an awfully long time, isn't it?" I whispered to Ron.

"Well, he _is _the Boy-Who-Lived . . . maybe it has to make sure they're making the right decision," shrugged Ron.

It was silent before the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table cheered the loudest cheer of the night as Harry made his way to the table. I watched as the oldest redheaded boy at the train station stand up and shake Harry's hand with enthusiasm, and the twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

After "Thomas, Dean" was sorted into Gryffindor, and "Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw, Ron was called up next. Pushing the pale green Ron forward, I whispered words of encouragement.

A second later, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Only one person was left standing beside me and it was a pleasant looking boy.

_WHY did mum have to marry someone whose last name is near the end of the alphabet? I'm absolutely starving—I can eat a hippogriff! _

McGonagall called my name and I exchanged smiles with the last boy before walking up. Walking up confidently to the stool, I gently placed the hat on my head.

"_Ah, a Wright. I see . . . Your parents were in Ravenclaw. You would do well there, just like they did. Hm, it seems like your loyalty and courage overpowers your brains, better be—_

"—GRYFFINDOR!"

I smiled at McGonagall as I handed her the hat. Hurrying to the cheering table, I sat across from Harry and Ron. Warm welcomes were exchanged as hands clapped my back.

"Zabini, Blaise" was sorted into Slytherin and McGonagall rolled up the parchment and left with the stool and hat.

The gray-haired and long bearded Albus Dumbledore stood up and beamed at the many students. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, here are a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

"Is he mad?" Harry asked Percy over the claps and cheers.

'Mad? He's a genius! The best wizard in the world! Bit mad, yes. Potatoes?"

The previously empty dishes were now filled with a variety of foods. Roast beef, chicken, pork, lamb, sausages, bacon, boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, fries, pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and more.

"YES!" Ron and I cheered at the sight in front of us. Piling our plates with food, we wouldn't have known people are looking at us if it weren't for Hermione.

"Honestly you two, where are your manners? People are staring!" she chastised.

"O' stahp," Ron said with his mouth full, waving a chicken leg in the air. "Phats not true!" Hermione gave him a disgusted look as bits of food sprayed from his mouth.

"Ah!" Ron screamed, nearly choking on a piece of chicken. A ghost suddenly appeared beside me.

"Hello! How are you? Welcome to Gryffindor!"

"Hello, Sir Nicholas. Have a nice summer?" Percy greeted the ghost.

"My request to join the Headless Hunt has been denied . . . once again," Sir Nicholas replied gloomily.

"Hey, I know you! My brothers told me- you're Nearly Headless Nick!" Ron said excitedly.

"I prefer Sir Nicholas, if you don't mind," he scoffed.

"_Nearly _headless? How can you be _nearly _headless?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Like this," annoyed, he promptly pulled his left ear. His whole head swung off his shoulder and onto his shoulder. Hermione nearly gasped in shock and looked down at her food in disgust.

"Wicked!" Ron and Harry said, looking at each other with wide eyes.

As dinner passed, the plates of food disappeared and replaced by an assortment of desserts, ice cream of every flavor, pies, treacle tarts, éclairs, doughnuts, fruits, Jell-O, rice pudding . . .

I happily added a slice of apple pie, strawberry ice cream, and fruit onto my plate as I listened to my new housemates talk.

"I'm half," said Seamus. "Dad's a Muggle. Me Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they married. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out!" I snorted into my pumpkin juice as the others laughed.

"What about you, Emma?" asked Seamus.

"Mum and dad are both pureblood . . . both of them work in the Ministry. Dad almost made it to the professional league, but had a nasty injury during his last year here. Not much to them—I have a younger brother. It'll be his first year next year." I shrugged at them, not knowing what else to say.

"Almost professional? How did he get injured? What's his name?" an older student beside Percy asked me.

"Richard Wright; his knee was hit by a bludger during a game—"

The boy widened his eyes at me, "Did I hear you correctly? Richard Wright! He's one of the top ten chasers in Hogwarts history in goal scoring!"

"What are you talking about, Oliver?" Percy asked. The burly, but handsome Scottish boy only shook his head at Percy.

"Richard Wright, Perce!" Leaning in closer to us he said, "Rumor has it, he had scouts from teams since his fifth year. Took one nasty bludger during his seventh year and while he was still good, he was never the same. I'm Oliver Wood by the way—Gryffindor Quidditch captain."

"Pleasure, I'm Emma. He's the head sports writer for _The_ _Daily Prophet_. He doesn't use his real name though; he uses the penname "R.A. Wright."

"R.A. Wright? That's the only Quidditch news I read! Besides _The_ _Quidditch Post_, of course!" Oliver exclaimed.

"He used to come to Hogwarts to write pieces on upcoming Quidditch players, but he hasn't in the past few years. I can ask him to come by sometime if you—" Oliver engulfed me in a hug.

"Thanks, Emma!" I could only blush as this attracted the stares from other students.

"N-no problem," I mumbled when I noticed Hermione's teasing smile.

Professor Dumbledore stood up and the plates of desserts disappeared. The hall fell silent.

"A few start-of-term notices I wish to announce. First years, please note that the forest on the grounds are forbidden to all students. It would also be wise for the older students to remember that as well." His blue twinkling eyes focused on the Weasley twins who gave Dumbledore innocent smiles.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind students that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you."

Harry was one of the few students who laughed. "He's not—he can't be serious, is he?" he muttered to Percy.

Frowning deeply at Dumbledore, Percy said, "Strange . . . he would usually give a reason why we're not allowed to be somewhere, but I do think he might've told us Prefects, at least."

"Now, before we head to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore happily as the other Professors' smiles had turned into grimaces. "Pick your favorite tune and off we go!"

The Gryffindor first years looked at each other and mumbled along the best we could with the older students. I tried not to cringe as dad had been singing this song everyday since I received my Hogwarts letter. I giggled as the Weasley twins dragged the song out into a very slow funeral march. They winked at me as Dumbledore conducted the last few lines with his wand. Once they finished, Dumbledore clapped the loudest.

"Music; the magic beyond all we learn here! And now, bedtime! Off you trot!"

Exhausted and stuffed with food, I followed along with the other first years behind Percy. Weaving through the roaring crowd, Percy led us up the marble staircase, pass portraits, through doorways behind panels and tapestries, and even more staircases.

"Ron, carry me, pleeeeease!" I whined, reaching my arms out for him.

Shrugging my arms away, he shook his head. I turned to Harry, but before I could ask, he quickly turned away from me. Highly offended, I didn't notice we had stopped in the middle of the corridor.

"Why are we-?" Hermione pointed up at the floating bundle of walking sticks above us. As Percy stepped forward, sticks were thrown at him.

"Peeves," Percy huffed to us, "He's a poltergeist." Raising his voice, he demanded for Peeves to show himself.

A loud sound—similar to the air being released from a balloon—accompanied by Lavender Brown and one of the Patil twins squealing, was Peeve's reply.

"Do you want me to call the Bloody Baron?" Percy threatened.

A little man appeared, with a wide mouth stared tauntingly at Percy with his dark eyes. Floating in the air with his legs crossed, he focused on us first years.

"Oooh!" he said, "Ickle firsties! What fun!" We screamed and ducked when he swooped down at us.

"Go away, Peeves! Or I'll tell the Baron about this! I mean it this time!" yelled Percy. He was turning quite red and spit sprayed from his mouth.

"Whoa, how red do you think he'll turn?" I whispered to Harry and Ron.

Blowing a raspberry at Percy, Peeves vanished and dropped the sticks on Neville's head.

"You'll want to watch out for him. The Bloody Baron's the only one that can control him—he won't even listen to us Prefects," Percy said, sticking his nose in the air, before continuing to the Gryffindor common room. "This way, don't get lost!"

Once we reached the end of the corridor, a portrait of a fat woman in a pink silk dress hung on the wall.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis," Percy said clearly. The huge portrait swung open to reveal a hole in the wall. Entering the tunnel, we found ourselves inside the Gryffindor common room with its fireplace, squashy armchairs, and staircase.

"G' night boys. See you in the morning!" I said to the boys before following the other girls up to the dormitory as the boys turned to theirs. Inside the room, there were six beds with deep red, velvet curtains surrounding them. Our trunks have been brought up and placed in front of each bed. My bed was the furthest from the door and Hermione's bed was the closest to me.

Lavender and the Patil twin were chatting amongst themselves while Hermione packed her school bag for the next day. Another brunette and redheaded girl were preparing for the night. Walking to the center of the dormitory, I smiled and introduced myself, "Hello, I'm Emma. And you guys are?"

"Lavender," she said, braiding her hair back. "I love your eyes! They're green, yes?"

"I'm Parvati," said the dark haired girl beside her. "Yes, your eyes are beautiful! Why am I stuck with brown eyes?"

"Fay Dunbar," said the brown haired and blue-eyed girl. "I overheard the conversation about your father during dinner—that's so cool! Not the injured part—of course, but being so highly ranked in Hogwarts Qudditch history? Amazing! I think Qudditch is the greatest sport!"

" Sally-Anne, but you can call me Sally," the redheaded said, smiling gently.

"I'm Hermione. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be getting some sleep. It's a big day tomorrow and I absolutely cannot afford to get detention because I was tardy," she said. Already dressed in her pajamas, Hermione climbed onto her bed.

"Do you mind waking me up tomorrow, Hermione?" I asked. "We can head to breakfast together." She hesitated for a second before agreeing and pulled her curtains closed.

After changing in the bathroom, I bid the girls good night as I climbed into bed. I made a mental note to write to mum and dad before drifting off to a dreamless sleep.


	4. practice brewing them for your mum!

**A/N**: Hey, guys! Anyone reading this? If you are, thanks for reading my story! Please review! **Any** criticism/suggestions are helpful!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter world as it belongs to the fabulous J. K. Rowling.  
I own anything you don't recognize.

* * *

"Emma . . . Emma!"

Sunlight glared across my closed eyelids. I groaned and stuffed my face under my cool pillow. I felt a nudge on my shoulder, but I ignored it. As I started to fall back into sleep, I felt a chilling breeze as my blanket was torn off my now shivering body.

"Hermione!" I whined, blindly grabbing for my blanket, but only grasped thin air.

"No! I must insist you wake up right now! You'll be late for your first day!" she exclaimed.

"I-it's okay," I said mid-yawn. "At this point, the sunlight is killing me enough. Hermione, finish the job for me."

"I don't think your parents would appreciate that much," she chuckled.

"Nah, my parents have Christopher to fall back on . . . Christopher always wanted to be the favorite child, poor kid." I sighed as the conversation with Hermione woke me up.

Climbing off my bed, I grabbed my toiletries and scrambled off to the bathroom. I stumbled out a few moments later, loosely braiding my hair.

"Okay, I'm ready. What time is it? Do we still have time for breakfast?"

"Don't worry, we have plenty of time—it's only 6:30."

"6 . . . 6:30!" she nodded. It was then when I noticed the other girls still asleep. "Hermione!"

"_Shut_ up!" Lavender hissed from under her blankets.

"I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to wake you up so early, I promise! I'm just so nervous! I tried to sleep in for another ten minutes, but . . . what if they realize they've made a mistake and send me back home?" Hermione sat on her bed.

I sat down and wrapped my arms around her. "Don't you ever dare say that again! You deserve to be here just like everyone else!"

Hermione smiled gratefully at me, "Thanks Emma, and I really am sorry for waking you up so early."

"Hey, what are friends for? And no big deal . . . just don't make this a habit!" We giggled and left for the Great Hall together.

Only several students were awake as Hermione and I made our way to the middle of the Gryffindor table.

"Early birds . . . can't trust any of 'em, Hermione," I said as I narrowed my eyes at the perkier students.

"Don't stare, Emma! It's rude." I rolled my eyes and piled food onto my plate.

"I wonder what our first class will be . . ." I wondered after I had taken a bite of my toast.

"Ms. Granger, Ms. Wright. Here are your timetables." Professor McGonagall stood behind us, holding the pile of timetables.

_I must be psychic. Maybe I'll ignore dad's lecture about divination. _

"Have you two seen Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"

"No, Professor. It's still early—perhaps they're still getting ready?"

"Very well. See you in class."

I turned to Hermione with worried eyes. "What if they're not? It's a big castle, and they were so tired last night—I don't think they paid attention during the walk up to the common room!"

"Calm down! They'll be fine. Harry seems very responsible . . . not sure about that Ron boy though—did I tell you? He tried to do a spell on the train yesterday, wasn't even a real spell!"

"But that was just a prank his brother pulled on him."

Hermione didn't seem convinced. "Still, I'm not so sure. Let's head to class. Transfiguration first? Perfect!"

Before I could finish my last bite of toast, Hermione grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the hall.

"Do you even know the way?" I asked absentmindedly. I attempted to brush the dirt off the muffin Dean Thomas threw me on our way out, which promptly landed on the stone floor.

_Note to self: don't trust Dean with valuables. Especially food. _

"Sure, I asked Percy last night. He gave me directions," Hermione glanced at me sideways, "You're not really going to eat that, are you?"

"Hermione, you woke me up at 6:30 this morning. You have no right to judge me right now."

We waited outside the classroom for McGonagall. Majority of the Gryffindor first years were present, with the exception of Harry and Ron. I asked Seamus if he knew where they were, but was answered with a shrug.

Once McGonagall opened the doors, Hermione and I took our seats at the front of the class. I found myself glancing at the back of the classroom, hoping to see Harry and Ron come in.

_I hope they're on their way . . . _

A few moments later, Professor McGonagall called for our attention.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. In this class, you will be learning how to alter the form or appearance of an object. For example . . . " She turned to her desk and with a wave of her wand, she changed the desk into a pig and back again.

"Awesome!" I exclaimed in awe.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. I'm warning you now; anyone fooling around in my class will leave and not come back.

"There are four branches of Transfiguration: transformation, vanishment, conjuration, and untransfiguration. As it is only your first year, you will be learning about transformation." Suddenly, a cat sat on the spot where Professor McGonagall stood. The students gasped in awe and Hermione looked on in amazement.

"Can anyone tell me what I just did?" Professor McGonagall asked once she returned to her human form. My hand shot up instantly. She nodded her head at me, "Ms. Wright?"

"You're an Animagus—you can morph into an animal at will."

"10 points to Gryffindor. Yes, the process of animagus is very complex and few can master it. You will learn about this skill in your third year." Flicking her wand towards the board, instructions magically appeared.

"Open your books to the first chapter and take notes. We will begin using our wands once you have all finished. No talking." She said sternly before turning back into a cat, and jumping on top of her desk.

As we worked in silence, Harry and Ron burst through the door. Beside me, Hermione shook her head disapprovingly.

"Wow! We made it. Can you imagine the look on ol' McGonagall's face if we were late?" said Ron. Cat-formed McGonagall became human again, and walked briskly to the boys.

"That was bloody brilliant!" commented Ron. "How did you do that?!"

"Well, thank you, Mr. Weasley, but perhaps it would be more useful to turn Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket watch—that way, one of you might be on time! And you would've known how I did that if you made it here before class started!"

"W-we got lost," Harry tried to explain.

"Well, perhaps a map!" McGonagall said, looking at them sternly. "I will trust you don't need one to find your seats."

Heads down, they made their way to their desks. I waved once I caught their eyes, but only Harry returned it. Ron narrowed his eyes and turned away.

_Did I do something wrong? I haven't seen them all morning! _

After finishing our notes, Professor McGonagall gave each of us a match to turn into a needle. Hermione and I smiled challengingly at each other.

"Are you ready for this, Wright?" Hermione said teasingly.

"Bring it, Granger."

By the end of class, only Hermione and I were the only ones able to alter our matches. Professor McGonagall showed the class how the matches had turned silver and pointy. She gave us a rare, tight-lipped smile. Hermione and I high fived under our desk.

After Transfiguration, we headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Mum and dad have told me about this class and I couldn't wait. Unfortunately, Professor Quirrell wasn't what I expected. He wore an absurd looking turban that wavered as he moved about and stuttered as he talked. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic . . .

"A-and when I w-was in R-r-romania, I met a v-vampire . . ."

"Do you suppose that's what the garlics all about? To ward off that vampire?" Lavender whispered beside me as Parvati giggled loudly.

Professor Quirrell then told us the origin of his turban, which was given to him by an African prince as a thank you for relieving him of a zombie . . .

"Can you believe this guy?" I whispered to Hermione, but she only shushed me and continued to pay attention to Quirrell's ridiculous story.

"How did you fight him off?" Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly. Turning quite pink, Quirrell changed the subject to the weather.

* * *

Friday arrived and Ron had forgiven me. According to Ron, the primary reason they were late to Transfiguration on the first day was because they were waiting for me. This was a lie, of course, as Harry told me that Ron was just miffed that I was with Hermione. Although I was friends with both Hermione and the boys, I spent most of my free time with the boys. Hermione never seemed to mind as she spent most of her time in the library, though we would sit together in class and talk before bed.

On Friday morning, I sat with Harry and Ron in the Great Hall.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked as he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Double Potions with Slytherins," I said before Ron could pull out his timetable. At his stare, I merely shrugged. "I have it memorized."

"Snape's the head of the Slytherin house. Fred and George told me he always favors them."

"I wish McGonagall would favor us," Harry said, looking at Ron. Although McGonagall didn't show favoritism to the Gryffindor house, Hermione and I were often praised during class.

As breakfast rolled along, hundreds of owls flew into the Great Hall. A letter landed into my bowl of cereal. Glancing up, my family's owl, Figg, hooted at me and flew away. Ron let out a strange noise as a tin landed roughly on his head.

"Ruddy bird," I scowled, picking up the wet letter. Percy, who sat nearby, helped dry my letter with a spell. Opening the letter, I was almost afraid as I realized I had forgotten to write home.

_Dear Emma, _

_ Thank you for not writing to your poor mum. You couldn't spare five minutes of your busy schedule to write home? A simple, "still alive" would've sufficed! I was going to send some of the peanut butter cookies I made, but you can forget about it! I will be expecting a letter in the upcoming week or your next letter from home will be an embarrassing howler. Don't test me._

_ Sincerely, _

_ A Very Upset Mother _

_Emma, _

_ PLEASE WRITE BACK SOON! YOUR MOTHER IS DRIVING US CRAZY! _

_We are doing fine, in case you were wondering. We don't miss you though. Only joking! How's Hogwarts? You're not in Slytherin are you—Dear Merlin! That's why you haven't written, isn't it? Too ashamed to tell us! Christopher will now have your room and you will be living in the backyard. Don't torment the kids too much, you snake! I attached some of the cookies your mum baked—was before I found out you were in Slytherin, of course. There are enough cookies to share, or you can keep them for yourself. _

_Dad_

I gasped and reached for the tin in Ron's hands. Opening it, I noticed that dad must've charmed it, as the cookies were still warm. I happily ate one, and turned to my housemates around me and offered some.

"Thwese arf deelishus!" Ron said with a mouthful of the cookies.

"Ready for Potions?" Hermione asked behind me. I glanced at the boys hesitatingly. Harry smiled at the two of us while Ron rolled his eyes. I said my goodbyes and left with Hermione.

"It's freezing down here!" I complained as we walked deeper onto the dungeons. Hermione nodded and we huddled closely to each other.

"Emma?" asked Hermione.

"Yes?" I answered hesitatingly, glancing at her sideways.

"Ron doesn't like me very much, does he?"

I averted my eyes. Tension between Hermione and Ron increased drastically the past week and it was difficult to talk to Ron when he was being unreasonable.

_How do I say this without badmouthing both of them? _

I pulled Hermione to a stop.

"He's . . . difficult. Don't mind him too much, okay? You don't need a boy's opinion to dictate your own life. You're much better than that! You're awesome! And if he can't see that, then it's his own problem. You're a pretty cool gal, 'Mione."

Hermione smiled gently at me.

We arrived before most of the class and sat in the middle. Harry and Ron came in shortly before class started and sat beside me. We chatted a bit before the door slammed open and Professor Snape walked in. His cloak billowed after him, which made him resemble a bat. He started the class by taking roll, and paused when he reached Harry's name.

"Harry Potter—our new celebrity." Malfoy and the other Slytherins sniggered, but Snape didn't seem to care. Snape finished calling roll and scanned the class. His eyes were black and cold.

"You will learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he spoke just louder than a whisper. "There will not be any foolish wand waving, so I don't expect you to truly understand the beauty of potionmaking. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death—if you aren't like the dunderheads I usually have to teach.

"Potter!" he said suddenly. "What would I get if I add powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Powdered root of what to an infusion of what?" Harry glanced at Ron for help; Hermione's hand shot up.

"Draught of living—" I tried to whisper before Snape narrowed his eyes at me.

"Well, Potter?"

"I don't know, sir"

Snape openly sneered, "Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything." He drawled, and ignored Hermione's raised hand. "Let's try again, Potter. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Again, Hermione stretched her hand up high, and I couldn't help but giggle at her antics. Malfoy and his friends were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Didn't think you would need to open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" I didn't catch onto Snape's intention until I noticed that he continued to ignore Hermione's hand.

_He's singling out Harry on purpose! What's his deal? _

"Tell me Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Hermione was now on her feet, stretching her hand toward the ceiling.

"I don't know—I think Hermione does, why don't you ask her?" Some students laughed, but Snape wasn't humored.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione, who immediately did as she was told. "As you don't seem to be aware, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a powerful sleeping potion—also known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone, taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, which also goes by aconite."

His eyes panned the room before speaking in a cold voice, "Why aren't you all writing this down?"

Everyone searched for quills and parchment, and whispers sounded as students asked each other for information.

"And Potter, one point from Gryffindor for your cheek," Snape said over the noise.

Unsurprisingly, things got worse as Potions continued. Snape had us pair up and brew a cure for boils. Luckily, I was paired up with Hermione.

"What do you think so far, 'Mione?" I asked as I weighed the dried nettles.

"He seems very knowledgeable—but sure is scary," she replied.

"Bat-like, isn't he?" Hermione and I giggled quietly, but quickly stopped when Snape made his way around the class.

Snape criticized everyone except Malfoy-who strangely enough, he likes. He was praising Malfoy about the way he stewed his horned slugs when green smoke and a loud hissing sound filled the classroom. Neville, paired with Seamus, had melted their cauldron into a blob, and their potion started to trickle down the dungeon floor, burning holes into people's shoes.

_Holy shi- _

"Hermione! Up on your stool!" I instructed her as I noticed that only shoes were being burned. Everyone joined in and only seconds later, the whole class stood on their stools.

Neville, drenched in his potion, moaned in pain as boils formed on his arms and legs. Snape cleared the potion off the floor with a simple wave of his wand. He rounded on Neville, and the whole class fell silent, wondering how Snape would react.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape. "I assume you added the porcupine quills before removing the cauldron off the fire? Couldn't comprehend the instructions, Longbottom?"

_Poor Neville! _

Neville only whimpered as more boils formed.

"Finnegan! Take him to the hospital wing," Snape ordered Seamus. He turned to Harry and Ron, who were working beside Neville and Seamus.

"Potter- do I dare ask why we didn't warn him about the quills? Wanted to look good if he does it wrong? One more point from Gryffindor."

I turned to Hermione who looked back at me in shock. Malfoy and his friends were attempting to hide their laughter.

"Shut it, Malfoy—think you're high and mighty because you could brew a cure for boils? Must've had enough practice brewing them for your mum!"

"Wright! Five points!" Malfoy smirked when Snape turned away from us.

As we made our exit an hour later, Harry sulked about losing points.

"Cheer up, Harry!" Ron said. "Snape's always taking off points from Fred and George—and Emma here got five points taken today!"

Narrowing my eyes I said, "Yes, Ron, it wasn't like I was sticking up for Harry or anything!"

"Emma! I can't believe you said that to Malfoy! We lost seven points in _one _class!" Hermione said, falling into step beside me. Ron stiffly looked away and started a conversation with Harry.

"CHARLIE TOLD ME THAT SNAPE DOESN'T WASH HIS HAIR. THAT'S WHY IT'S SO GREASY—"

"Ten points, Mr. Weasley," Snape said as he walked by us in the corridor.

"Make that seventeen points," said Hermione.

"_Nobody _asked you, Granger," sneered Ron.

Hermione glared at Ron before bidding me goodbye and left for the library.

"Why are you even friends with her?" asked Ron.

"I'll tell you something, Ronald Weasley! When you decide to stop being a jerk, come and find me! Until then, I will be spending my time with Hermione." I walked away from the two of them, heading to the library.


End file.
